


conditioning

by astarisms



Series: natan week [3]
Category: Satan and Me (Webcomic)
Genre: F/M, Natan Week, Prompt Fic, Punishment/Reward
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-27
Updated: 2017-10-27
Packaged: 2019-01-25 05:58:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 873
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12524552
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/astarisms/pseuds/astarisms
Summary: for natan week day 3: he will not be subjected to this... unless, of course, it benefits him.





	conditioning

Lucifer Morningstar went by many names. Satan, The Adversary, The Prince of Darkness, The King of Lies, and so on and so forth. He was the  _ Devil _ . The thought of him alone was enough to strike fear into human hearts.

Well. Most human hearts.

Natalie was an exception. He wasn’t sure where this kid got off, but after the first week or so with him, she had gotten uncomfortably  _ comfortable _ around him. She had no problem sassing him or ordering him around, her knowledge of their contract giving her an unwelcome confidence.

She especially liked to use her newfound confidence to punish him if he was being bad.  _ Bad _ .  _ Him. _ The  _ Devil. _

The kid really needed to get her shit on straight because what was she expecting from him? He was the very definition of the fucking word.

She tried a variety of things from house arrest to doing her chores and homework, but by and large her favorite punishment was dragging him to church with her and her dad on Sundays.

She saved that for when he was exceptionally bad, but the experience was horrible enough to traumatize him. He couldn’t believe the audacity, but he was too nauseous and too adverse to the idea of being dragged back that he didn’t follow through with the temptation to burn her house to the ground.

After he’d recovered, all he’d done was yell at her, which she took a lot better that time than she had the first time he’d raised his voice at her. And by a lot better, he meant she smiled indulgently at him, stifling her laughter in her sleeve.

He swore on that day that the moment this contract was up, he’d kill her himself.

Of course, things had a funny way of never working out as he wanted them to. Several months into their contract, she was practically attached to him at the hip, and for all his griping he never actually attempted to push her away.

She sat on her bed, her homework pushed to the side as she leaned over her knees to look at him closer.

“Hey, dude?”

He grunted in acknowledgement. Natalie only narrowed her eyes at him suspiciously, before she grinned.

“Whatever you’re thinking about doing, don’t.”

“Wha — I’m just fucking sitting here!”

“You stopped actually reading that book like ten minutes ago. You’re plotting something.”

“When did you start paying attention to shit like that, kid? I’m not plotting anything.”

She eyed him for a moment, before pulling her chemistry book back into her lap and raising up.

“If you say so. Just remember, church is tomorrow! Wouldn’t it be fun if you could go?”

“Are you threatening me?”

“Of course not!” There was a gleam in her eyes that made him narrow his own. “I just said it’d be fun if you could go.”

“You can’t keep pulling this bullshit. Even if I  _ was  _ doing something, I—”

Natalie started giggling, beaming at him, and he glared even more fiercely.

“Okay, okay, dude, just calm down. It was just a joke. You’re so easy to get riled up.”

He huffed, disinclined to continue this conversation with her, and turned his attention back to his book.

“You know what would be better than church, though?”

He didn’t even grunt this time, refusing to give her the idea that he was still listening, hunched rebelliously over his book. Natalie only tapped the end of her pen against her lip, knowing that he was paying attention despite how he pretended not to.

“That bakery on the corner by the mall. Those brownies could really hit the spot, don’t you think?”

There was a note to her voice that he didn’t like, and when he finally looked up at her, she was all but smirking at him.  _ Smirking! _ She shrugged slightly, looking back down at her book.

“I guess it all depends on you, though. What do you wanna do, Lucifer?”

It wasn’t the first time she had pulled something like this, and while he was never averse to the  idea of brownies that Natalie played no hand in making, something always sat wrong with him.

In all the months he’d spent with her, he could never quite place his finger on it, but there was a pattern to her trying to get him to do what she wanted, rewarding him when he did something she liked and —

He stopped, a memory flashing back to a couple of months ago when she’d been mumbling her notes aloud, trying to study for her psychology test or some shit.

She was fucking  _ training _ him. Conditioning him to be a “good boy” like he was a fucking  _ dog _ . Like he was her own personal Pavlovian experiment.  Church when he was bad, sweets when he was good. She was playing with him. The  _ Devil. _

But… he couldn’t turn down good brownies.

He’d play her game, for now. Only until it stopped benefitting him. And he would not let himself be  _ conditioned _ .

“Brownies sound good,” he said, narrowing his eyes at her in an unspoken challenge. She only smiled innocently at him.

“Great! We can get some when I finish this homework. My treat.”

_ Yeah _ , he thought.  _ It had better be. _


End file.
